To Soothe The Savage Beast
by DarkSabertooth
Summary: Lo/Ro romance.When Logan's feeling down and struggling with the feral side Ororo steps in to comfort him but things go a little further than she thought they would.Rating will go up.
1. Default Chapter

**To Soothe the Savage Beast**

****

A study in contrasts, was he the animal Wolverine or the man Logan, both of them or neither? Sometimes he thought he had the answer and at other times he despaired of ever solving the mystery. Some days the beast was stronger than others and threatened to engulf the man completely. The temptation to surrender to the beast, to just let pure instinct take over was almost overwhelming. Some days he just wished to become just a predator with no awkward ethics or morals to get in the way just the basic instincts. It just seemed so simple and yet so exhilarating to slip into the feral side, to become pure and as one with nature. He resisted these urges, clung tight to his honor and hoped it would prove enough. He was a man, not an animal.

"Everyone has a feral side; it's just that yours is stronger than most Logan. I too have a rage within me, I can be as gentle as the breeze but I also wield the fury of the hurricane. I too know the dangers of allowing rage to overwhelm compassion."

Those had been Ororo's words to him today whispered in his ear when she was sure nobody else would hear. She'd looked into his hazel eyes, seen the beast smoldering in the depths and she hadn't flinched away. Instead she'd laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and just leaned close and whispered words of comfort to him. Storm, wise, regal, beautiful and majestic, she could never truly understand him.

How could she hope to understand just what went through his mind? The nightmares that still came to him sometimes of the deaths of Mariko, Silver Fox and all the others he'd failed to protect. Weapon X placing the adamantium in his bones, leaving him far more animal than man. Years later Magneto ripping free the adamantium and bringing him as near to death as he'd ever come. The nightmare that was the time when he became death, Horseman of Apocalypse and nearly killed those he loved.

The faces of his enemies haunted his dreams, so many faces, and so many battles. Sabretooth, Lady Deathstrike, Cyber, Omega Red, Bloodscream, Roughhouse, Donald Pierce, Magneto, Ogun, Cylla, Mister X and so many more. He fought against them and struck them down only for them to rise again stronger than before, reducing his sleep to an endless tide of blood and gore.

_I am man, not animal but man; I am man, not animal but man._

Repeat the mantra over and over and maybe that would make it true.

_I keep my claws sheathed for I shall not harm those that do not harm me._

How could he stop himself from wondering how it would feel to pop a claw through Hank's throat, to impale Ororo through the heart, to disembowel Scott or to decapitate Remy? He felt sick to the stomach when he realized he got a rush from these thoughts.

_If you come at me with your fists I'll come at you with my fists. If you come at me with a sword I'll come at you with my claws. If you want some mercy show some first._

He was a killer but he wasn't a murderer. There was a difference between the two and it was an important one. He killed only those who threatened him or those he cared for and he would show mercy if only to those who deserved it.

_I'm the best there is._

His personal credo and all that bothered him was, the best there is at what?

These questions and other thoughts had been preying on his mind so much in these past few days. Ever since that last desperate battle with Sabretooth which he'd come so close to losing. He'd come close to the edge in that battle maybe too close for comfort. To defeat Sabretooth he'd been forced to lose himself to the berserker rage, to fight Sabretooth on his own terms. He hadn't stopped until Creed lay broken at his feet, too wounded to do anything much except bleed. He had coughed blood and managed to defiantly snarl at Logan and tell him to finish it and end the game. Logan hadn't finished it that day, he'd been too weary and heartsick to do anything except sheathe his claws and turn his back on Creed.

He'd spoken no words to his friends; ignored Hank's urging him to come to the infirmary. Instead he'd gone out into the mansion grounds. He'd discarded the shredded shirt and jacket, kicked off his boots and ran bare-chested and barefoot into the trees. He'd lost himself to the feral side for a time, just ran and howled like a wolf. The calls of Jean, Ororo and the others were ignored as irrelevant by the beast within. He simply had no wish or need of their company at the time.

For long hours he'd delighted in all the many sensations. The feel of grass under his feet, the sharp prickle of pebbles, the feel of the earth and the cool refreshing feel of the water in the stream. The sounds of birds and rodents, the chirp of insects and all the sound that humans were deaf to. Most of all the myriad of scents combining in an intoxicating perfume. He allowed the sensations to soothe the savage beast and calm him, allowing the man to take control.

Now he was relaxed and trying to regain the delicate balance between beast and man. Kneeling back towards the mansion gazing out across the lake watching the gently lapping waves. This calmed him, the claws retracted and he folded his hands onto his lap. Eyes shut momentarily and then opened again, not a trace of the savage rage within them. His gaze was calm and unfocused, now he had achieved the desired meditative state and nothing could distract him.

"By the bright lady, how do you manage to look so magnificent to me Logan? What is it about you that makes me find beauty in you? I just wish Logan that you'd let me comfort you. I just wish old friend that you would realize that I care for you," sighed Ororo.

The wind rider floated on the breeze, serene and beautiful gazing down with compassion at the haunted feral. She drifted slowly, riding the winds to the ground, long white hair drifting like a cloud around her. She hovered just above the ground observing Logan and admitting to herself that he was wrong. He may think that he was short ugly and hairy but to her he was beautiful. Beautiful in the way a wolf is beautiful, deadly, savage but at the same time compassionate, full of grace and moving as softly as a shadow, ready with fang or claw to defend a friend, loyal to the death.

He looked for once serene and tranquil; she couldn't help but be touched at how vulnerable he looked. Hazel eyes calm for once without that feral edge to them. His broad hirsute chest rising and falling gently with his steady breath. Burly arms folded across his chest, claws sheathed. The wild hair rising from it's widows peak to the two distinctive tufts and flowing into the thick muttonchops that were his trademark. He looked not so much man as animal, a werewolf maybe or some sort of humanoid wolverine. Certainly not conventionally handsome but beautiful all the same.

"He looks so peaceful, so calm for him. Do I really have the heart to wake him?"

A mischievous smile played across Ororo's face and dusky skin deepened to mahogany as she blushed slightly. Yes the temptation was just too much; the look on his face would make it all worth it. A gesture and the gentlest of breezes ruffled Logan's hair, muttonchops rippled but Logan never stirred.

"Well looks like I'll have to get closer."

She tiptoed over and he must have smelt her and heard her. No reaction though since she wasn't a threat and he'd let her get right behind him. She looked down and smiled, a perfect target lay just before her. His feet were bare and just within her reach, surely with his heightened sense of touch he couldn't fail to react if she tickled him. She lightly scraped a nail down the sole of his foot and was rewarded by a burst of thunderous laughter.

"Hahahahaha, S-stop d-darlin, heehee, yer killin me," he begged failing miserably at a menacing growl.

"Oh so you are awake Logan. Logan there was no need for that," she shrieked outraged as the claws extended and long white tresses drifted to the ground.

"Ya looked like ya could do with a trim darlin, thought I'd do it fer ya with the claws," a throaty chuckle erupted in a guffaw as those nimble fingers reached for his ribs.

"My you are ticklish aren't you Wolverine. Still it's nice to hear you laugh,"

He couldn't stay angry with her, not when she smiled so radiantly. Logan patted the ground beside him indicating she could sit by him. He knelt beside her and placed an arm around her, needing the warmth and comfort of another human being now. She hugged him gently, tenderly knowing he wouldn't ask for the comfort. Not with words anyway but that look in his eyes, he needed comfort and she would give it to him.

"I'm glad ya came ta me darlin," whispered Logan.

"Now who would ever be able to resist a face like that Logan. By the goddess, I shall kiss you Logan,"

This she did placing a kiss on his stubbly cheek, soft lips brushing against his sideburn. Logan sighed and closed his eyes contentedly as she ran her fingers through his luxuriant glossy black hair.

"Oh darlin, don't leave me."

"Logan, I'm here to stay," purred Ororo in his ear.

She smiled, she'd only just begun to soothe the savage beast.


	2. Reflections

**Reflections**

****

The breeze was picking up now, sending ripples across the still surface of the lake. The water churned sending waves racing towards the shore. Logan stood watching the waves as they crashed against the bank sending droplets of water to splash against his skin. He felt calm as the cool water trickled down his brow, his chest. Now the breeze was beginning to die down again and soon the lake would be once again serene.

_Maybe I'm like that lake in some ways. I can be calm, tranquil even but it's so easy to stir me. The feral side, the anger and the violence are always there within me. I rage and I'm like the churning water, the waves crashing against the rocks. Then the rage dies within me and I'm calm again._

"I thought you might want your clothes back now Logan,"

Logan turned and managed a smile for Ororo. He'd thought she'd left to fly on the breeze for a while. He wouldn't have blamed for doing so after she'd comforted him. Instead she'd gone back to the mansion and brought him a fresh shirt. It was kind of her and much appreciated.

"Thanks darlin,"

He slipped the shirt on; leaving a few top buttons unopened to better feel the wind against his skin. Ororo stroked a finger against his chest ruffling the hair and he didn't mind at all. He kind of liked it in fact. 

"Are you going to put your boots on Logan?" 

Logan glanced down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes. 

"Actually ta tell ya the truth darlin, I'd prefer ta stay as I am fer a while. It's just good ta go barefoot fer a change, just ta feel the different sensations. Lush green grass tickling yer soles, squelching in the mud and feeling it ooze between yer toes. Cool refreshment as ya wade through a stream and the rough pebbles underfoot. Just don't ya get any ideas about tickling me again darlin, at least not without warning me first?"

Ororo smile was perhaps just a little too innocent especially with that gleam in her eyes.

Logan wandered right to the edge of the shore and gazed into the waters. For a moment he considered diving into the water and going for a quick swim. He was a strong swimmer of course out of necessity. The adamantium coating his bones dragged him down so he had to work that much harder. Even walking or standing he constantly felt the weight and it was a burden. Still he kept himself in peak physical condition, stronger and faster than many. He found sometimes though he missed not having the adamantium. There had been advantages in that state; he could heal a lot quicker then. Most of all he'd been true to nature, free of the metal he was closer to the animal than he could ever be now. He didn't know whether that had appealed to him or terrified him. The truth was probably both at the same time.

_Still the adamantium is a part of me, just like my senses, my healing factor and my claws. Anyway I never want to go through losing it again, especially not if it means I'll regress back to a feral state again. _

The water was calm, tranquil and beguiling. Logan watched the patterns the sunlight made as it played across the water, watched the ripples as the breeze began to pick up again. No the water was just too cool and refreshing for him to resist the temptation. He dipped a toe in the water sighing in contentment. The water was just cool enough to be invigorating without shocking the system too much. He sat down on the bank dipping his feet in the water, splashing around to get the mud of them. Then he lifted his feet up, enjoying the tingling sensation as gentle waves splashed against his soles.

"So darlin, I'd like ta know what ya see in me. I mean I'm short ugly and hairy really, not handsome enough fer ya surely Ororo. I mean yer a beautiful woman, what do ya want with a feral like me?"

"Well I can't deny that you're hirsute Logan. Perhaps in stature you are somewhat shorter than most but you are shall we say larger than life. Ugly though is not a word that could apply to you. Gaze on your reflection awhile and then tell me if you still think you're ugly," Ororo's tone was gently chiding.

Certainly few women seemed to find Logan ugly and he certainly had no trouble in attracting female attention. Carol Danvers, Yukio, Tyger Tiger, Betsy Braddock, Jean Grey, Kitty Pryde, Jubilation Lee, Amiko, Mariko Yashida, Elektra Natchios, he'd been or was close to them all, many as friends and some as lovers. He had no children of his own but to three young women he'd been a father. There was a caring, gentle and compassionate side to him that perhaps wasn't clear at first glance. For that alone he could hardly be described as ugly, at least not in spirit where it truly counted.

No Logan hadn't sounded bitter or self-loathing in fact he'd almost sounded as though he was fishing for a compliment. There'd been a slight twinkle in his eye when he'd spoken and she'd seen the flash of canine when he'd grinned. Well she didn't mind complimenting him if that's what he wanted. Still for being mischievous like that she would have to think of a suitable punishment for him. 

Logan gazed awhile at his reflection and had to admit, he wasn't that bothered how he looked. Hank and Kurt had no trouble with women and they were even hairier than he was. He grinned and the reflection grinned back, the smile softening the rough-hewn features and making him look younger almost vulnerable. He might be a hundred or more years old but he aged slowly. Look at his face and you might think him a young man until you saw his eyes. Those hazel eyes could only belong to one who'd lived a long time, seen maybe too many people they were close to die, seen too many sights they shouldn't have seen. The eyes were the windows to the soul and through them you could see the beast that was in his heart. Haunted eyes yet they still had warmth in then if you looked long and hard.

"Yeah yer right Ororo, guess I ain't so ugly after all. Maybe if I shaved more and maybe got a decent haircut I'd be almost a pretty boy. Would ya like me ta do that fer ya darlin?"

"Logan you will never be a pretty boy nor would I want you to be. You know what I want to do when I look at your hair?"

She ran her fingers through his thick sideburns, up and through his wild hair ruffling it and earning a mock growl from Logan. Feeling an itch in her cheek Ororo gently rubbed her face against Logan's chin. She sighed in relief as the rough stubble soothed away the itch.

"Do ya mind darlin?"

"I apologize profusely oh mighty feral."

"Don't ya be so cheeky unless ya want ta have a crew-cut darlin,"

Ororo gasped in dismay and rose up into the air. Logan grinned menacingly and extended his claws. Ororo gave him a menacing grin of her own and raised the breeze to a near gale. Directing like a maestro conducting an orchestra she sent it skimming the surface of the lake. A wave splashed against Logan's face plastering his hair to his scalp and leaving his muttonchops limp and sodden.

"By the bright lady, a wet Wolvie," chuckled Ororo.

"I ain't laughing darlin," growled Logan.

"Oh you soon will be, that's if you're not begging for mercy!"

Ororo glided down and dug her fingers into Logan's sides, running them down his ribs. The feral snorted trying to hold in his laughter and sat down heavily. Smiling serenely Ororo summoned up the breeze, sending gentle gusts of wind to stroke across his soles and Logan coughed and then a small giggle. Gritting his teeth he summoned up his resolve determined not to surrender, not even as Ororo's delicate fingers began tickling between his toes. Not even when she tickled under his armpits. He couldn't suppress the terror in his eyes when she grinned maliciously and produced a feather. Finally he surrendered, collapsing into helpless guffaws as she began to tickle him again.

"Do you yield Logan, I'll show you mercy on one condition."

"N-name it, heeheehee, darlin," gulped Logan helpless with laughter.

"That you stop being so hard on yourself. It's true that you came close to the edge but you didn't cross over it. Nobody would have blamed you for killing Sabretooth not even me, we'd have understood and we'd have helped you through with the guilt. Yet you pulled yourself back in time and that's the main thing. You don't enjoy the feral side not like Creed and you won't surrender to the animal. It doesn't matter if you sometimes come close to the edge for while you may stumble you will not fall. Your humanity is too important for you to ever fall into the abyss,"

"Thanks fer telling me that darlin, it means a lot ta me,"

Ororo gave him the warmest of smiles and put an arm around his shoulder. He embraced her drawing her into a gentle hug and leaned his head against her shoulder. She gave him a quick affectionate breeze and then just gently stroked his hair soothing him. Ororo murmured a song in her native language, one she learnt as a child long ago before she'd lost her parents. Logan closed his eyes contentedly and sighed.

"Will ya join me fer a paddle in the stream darlin, just kick off yer shoes and join me. The water's cool and fresh."

"I think I would like that Logan. Then why don't we just sit in a tree say and wait for the sun to set. You can talk to me about anything you want and I'll listen. I will be your sympathetic ear and your shoulder to cry on. We can stay out and watch the stars come up together if that's what you want. I'll be here as long as you need me to be."

Logan's warm smile was the best answer she could have wished for. 

"Thanks darlin," he whispered and gave her a gentle kiss.

A furry blue face lit up with a fang filled grin as Hank McCoy stood watching. He placed the small hamper of food Ororo had asked for on the tree stump. He wouldn't interfere now, not while they looked so perfect together. Instead he'd go back to the others and tell them Logan was going to be fine.

"Stars and garters, now if that's not a sight to warm an ever-effervescent bodacious bouncy blue Beast's heart then nothing is," whispered Hank as he rubbed his furry chin.

Not wishing to intrude further he turned around and walked back to the mansion, a contented smile on his furry face.


	3. The Blood On Our Hands

**The Blood on Our Hands**

****

Ororo placed her hand to her cheek, surprised at how gentle Logan's kiss had been. Silently she chided herself for forgetting that Logan could be tender when he wanted to be. Usually she could remember this but sometimes she and others mistakenly assumed that Logan was completely savage. Sometimes the feral side was strong in him, instincts overriding reason and he became little more than a predator. Even then he wasn't incapable of affection or tenderness. You just had to be wary of the beast and to remember that no matter what the humanity was still there if hidden deep within. If you gave him no reason to attack you then you were safe. 

Ororo closed her eyes and thought back to shortly after they'd first met. That was when she'd made one of her mistaken assumptions, one she still wished she could take back today. She could still see the pain in his eyes when she'd apologized, the hurt that he'd felt for her thinking him a butcher. She'd railed at him for killing animals in sport when he'd mentioned his hunting. He didn't kill for sport. Rather his form of hunting was to approach quietly and stealthily to a deer or other animal. Then when he'd got close he would just reach out and touch the animal.

She'd apologized to him of course and he'd accepted it. Still the fact remained that she'd judged him without knowing the truth. Maybe she couldn't be blamed since almost everyone then had believed Logan to be savage. He wasn't like her, Kurt, Scott, Jean, Piotr or the others. He admitted himself that he killed and he didn't hesitate to use his claws on an enemy. His temper was easily aroused and back then he didn't have the same control over his feral side. He sometimes lashed out at his fellows although thankfully he never seriously hurt anyone. Those days were over now and he was now an indispensable part of the team. He was a loner at heart and yet he was always there, the heart and soul of the team. Now even Warren grudgingly accepted him and though sometimes it was uneasy he'd befriended Scott.

The X-Men knew the truth now, had learnt that while Logan might be a killer he certainly wasn't a murderer. There weren't that many of them who hadn't now at some point been forced to kill when there was no other choice. It was never easy, it was never glorious. It haunted your dreams, consumed you with guilt and the faces never went away. 

Those who looked upon Ororo wouldn't know that she had blood on her hands. They saw the beautiful wind rider, the woman who'd been worshipped as a goddess. They saw the purity, the innocence and joy for life and never the guilt. The first time she'd had no choice, she'd literally been in a life or death situation. She was twelve, still a child but forced to scratch a living as a pickpocket on the streets. The man was large and he had a knife. His intentions were all too clear, he would rape her and then he would kill her. A struggle as she fought desperately to protect herself. She managed to grab the knife; he slipped and fell onto it. As simple as that, he was dead.

Nobody would blame her for that, she was protecting herself. Logan certainly wouldn't judge her for that. If he'd been there he would have killed the man himself to save a young woman, just as he'd kill to protect Jubilee or Kitty Pryde.

Still even to this day she felt a measure of guilt.

The second time was far worse. That was the day she'd ripped out a young woman's heart. She'd had no choice and it turned out that Sarah had survived. That didn't make the guilt any easier to bear. For the fact remained, she'd had to kill a young woman. A bitter, damaged, twisted young woman who'd committed some terrible crimes but still a victim. In a way Ororo was responsible for what Sarah had become.

She'd led the Morlocks but she hadn't saved them from the Marauders. Sarah had survived and through the machinations of the madman Mikhail Rasputin she ended up in another dimension. She lived a hellish existence becoming Marrow and returning to Earth to lead the deadly Gene Nation. She'd sought the blessing of the Dark Beast and at his behest they launched a campaign of terror and slaughtered hundreds of innocents. To save hundreds more Ororo had been forced to stop Marrow permanently. 

Now things were different and Marrow was a valued member of the X-Men, atoning for her crimes and finding redemption. She and Ororo were even on speaking terms now and some day they might even become friends. Still she couldn't forget the look on Sarah's face, the fear and disbelief as Ororo did the unthinkable. She still had the occasional nightmare.

"Are ya alright darlin?"

Ororo blinked, startled by Logan's sudden words. She turned slightly and faced him uncertain what she would say to him. His hazel eyes were filled with concern for her, shaggy brows furrowed slightly. She considered just nodding and saying she was fine but that would be a lie. He could probably tell by her scent that something was wrong because he'd laid a hand on her shoulder. Just a gentle touch to let her know she could talk to him. In a way it was ironic because she was supposed to be comforting him rather than the other way round.

"I was just thinking Logan about the times we've been forced to kill. I expect you know the truth better than any of us, that it's a stain that never goes away. I'm sorry; this is selfish of me and thoughtless to talk of such a thing, especially when you're feeling like this,"

She was taller than him so he needed to step up onto the tree stump to look her in the eye. He did so and gently embraced her, drawing her into a hug. Ororo felt secure as his strong arms held her safe, like a father comforting his daughter. She gazed into his hazel eyes, seeing the animal in there but knowing she was a member of his pack who he'd fight to the death to defend. She also saw the warmth and humanity and the tenderness he showed only to those he cared for the most. Jubilee, Jean, Kitty, Rogue and herself. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his craggy face softened becoming almost youthful. Slowly she found herself smiling back at him. Then he was leaning closer, stubble scratching her cheek. Lips met and he kissed her slowly and tenderly.

"Do ya feel better now darlin?"

For a moment Ororo was silent and then she smiled again, this time radiantly.

"I am much better thank you Logan."

He grinned broadly, pointed incisors and canines glinting in the light. He had a wild look in his eyes now, not one of feral rage but playfulness. He leapt down of the tree stump and then was scrabbling in the leaf litter. Moments later Ororo gave a small shriek as something sharp and prickly was shoved down her neck. Logan's raucous laughter rang out as she scrabbled at her clothing, finally managing to retrieve the pinecone. 

"By the bright lady, you are going to suffer for that Wolverine," she said in her sternest tone.

"Yer gonna have ta catch me first darlin," he chuckled and dashed off into the undergrowth.

Logan was grinning fiercely as he slunk stealthily through the bushes. He knew full well Ororo wasn't really angry with him and at least he'd managed to lift her out of her black mood. He was feeling playful now and he was going to allow her to catch him. The worst that would happen might be a drenching from a sudden downpour of rain or maybe she'd tickle him again. Certainly he wouldn't want to make her really mad, with an adamantium skeleton being struck by lightning was no fun at all. Barefoot Logan made not a sound as he crept through the leaf litter. Another fierce grin as he glimpsed a suitably tall tree.

"Yeow, freakin hell," he growled under his breath as a pine needle dug into his sole. 

A short distance away Ororo smiled to herself.

Logan reached the tree and began climbing, fingers and toes finding easy purchase on the rough bark. He was about twenty feet up when a gale wind began rocking the tree violently. He popped out his claws and would have clung their indefinitely but for a twist of fate. The wind happened to deposit a pine cone down his neck which slid under his loose shirt all the way down his back. With his heightened sense of touch the itching and tickling sensation proved unbearable and he reflexively retracted his claws and fell of the tree. Fortunately for him his fall was broken by a patch of stinging nettles.

"Flamin hell, going ta get ya fer this darlin," growled Logan.

"We shall see Logan, we shall see," Ororo giggled and dashed off towards the lake shore with the feral in hot pursuit.

He caught up with her just at the lake edge, popping his claws and using them to pin her cape to the floor. With a small shriek Ororo stumbled and instinctively flailed out for anything in reach, reflexively grabbing one of Logan's thick sideburns. Logan in turn yelped as a clump of hair was painfully yanked out. Then they were tumbling together straight into the lake. There was a loud splash and much cursing and spluttering.

"Flamin hell, now I'm soaked through ta the adamantium-laced bone!"

"By the bright lady, whatever will Scott think I've been up too?"

Then they were pulling themselves onto the shore, Ororo giggling and Logan literally howling with laughter. They hugged and laughed again, about to kiss when a polite cough interrupted them. Turning somewhat sheepishly they saw the blue-furred figure of Hank McCoy watching them. Hank folded his arms across his furry chest and fangs briefly showed in a sardonic grin.

"Well bless my stars and garters that was _certainly _something you don't see _every _day. Quite fascinating really. Anyway I just thought I'd tell you I've got a picnic hamper waiting for you. If you've quite finished your amusing antics that is. Don't hurry on my account though, I've been having a most entertaining time watching you," he chuckled.

Logan and Ororo exchanged glances and nodded.

Hank's blue eyes widened as the wind picked up and a massive wave from the lake cascaded towards him. Logan and Ororo dived out of the way but poor Henry had no chance at all. He was literally soaked through to the skin, fur plastered against his body and looking very much like a drowned werewolf.

"Stars and garters bub that is the phrase isn't it?" purred Logan.

"I really shouldn't laugh Henry. My apologies but I think I shall," were Ororo's last coherent words before she broke down in another fit of giggles.

"To borrow a catchphrase from my diminutive hirsute feral compatriot, grr," snarled Hank.

Then he shook himself dry like a dog, liberally soaking Ororo and Logan.

"Vengeance is mine," Hank gave them a triumphant smile.


End file.
